It wasn't leather jacket or dark eyes that sent a chill down my spine. It was the sly smile that crept onto her face when she looked in my direction.
No one was supposed to be able to see me. No one would believe it either. For almost everyone believes that ghosts, monsters are a part of fiction.
But she could see me her eyes tearing right through me. I couldn't tell if she knew I was trapped or was going to cause me harm.
She wasn't scared. She wasn't scared of me, the creepy girl in the black gown she had gifted, before she stabbed me in the farm.